104 replies to this topic

[Oni Storm]

Mess Hall
Union Class Dropship, Achilles Pride
Deep Space,
29th February, 3063, 1234 Hours

Azman nodded as if speaking to himself as he ate. Then remembering he was with company offered his dented can of beans to everyone present. “So what do you say?” Azman asked everyone, both to his suggestions as well as his offered beans.
Alexi burst out laughing "and now Azi, I think I owe you one" Lexi was literally beaming at Azman's ludicrous behavior, and actually reached out to accept a the beans offered, piercing one daintily with her pinky, then raised it to the sky "All for one, and one for all, and all that hmmm?" "You know if we are going to go with this great idea, of a sim, we should do a big cheer or motif or something for all of us Terrors, something to bring us together like that."

"Oh and welcome to the unit Andrew. We will have a grand adventure, you'll see." Azman smiled sheepishly.

"See. I told you, you'd like it here."

Edited by Oni Storm, 02 December 2012 - 01:30 PM.

[Sparks Murphey]

MechWarrior quarters
Union Class Dropship, Achilles Pride
Deep Space,
3rd March, 3063, 16:32 Hours

It was unfair. The Baron couldn’t see past his own self-righteousness to see what could be. Sure, Kara van Rannoch was noble born, and pretty, and influential at Tharkad, but Petra was right for him, couldn’t he see that? No, all he saw was his loyal second-in-command, hidden behind...

A small metal box, about half a foot long and smelling faintly of burnt plastics, pushed Adrianna’s novel down.

“Good book?” Zoé Winchester asked.

“What is it?”

“I’d not really picked you as the sort to like romances, but I guess...”

“Zoé, what is it?” Adrianna asked again, a little more insistently, as she slid Perchance to Command under her pillow.

“A Y-7087 signal converter. This one’s from your MASC system,” Zoé said, taking a deep breath as Adrianna raised an eyebrow. “I finally got the new S9-45 working consistently on the Ardent and ran a few tests. It worked fine for a bit, then dumped 20 volts onto the actuator rail. The MASC then picked it up, amplified it, and blew out the signal converter. Uh...we also owe for some gantry repairs.”

Adrianna rested her head in her hands. “Let me get this clear. I haven’t yet taken a step in that Centurion, nor fired a round from it’s autocannon, yet both the MASC and the AC are offline? And I’m going to be riding this thing into battle against the Falcons in the near future?”

Zoé mumbled something about testing.

“I know its testing, Zoé!” Adrianna fumed, “But this is a live fire field trial, not a lab test. Quickscell should have ironed out these sorts of faults by now. The Ardent should be a functional piece of equipment, and we should be testing its effectiveness, not whether it simply works! Look, I’m not angry with you. Just...someone in Quickscell’s forgetting their job. I’ll have a word with them. If there’s anything I can help you with, let me know.”

“Yes, ma’am. Not at the moment, ma’am.”

“Alright, dismissed.”

Great, Adrianna thought to herself. Now I’m a ma’am.

[MacabreDerek]

MechWarrior quarters
Union Class Dropship, Achilles Pride
Deep Space,
3rd March, 3063, 16:40 Hours

That smell never went away, that hospital sanitized smell that permeated the blood stained and angel white kimono she had folded in her hands, sitting on the edge of that hardened bunk. The lights remained dim, and the garment seemed to have an unnatural glow in the florescent light. There was a tightness in her breath, looking down at the fabric in her hands, a constant reminder of doubt and unease, the anxiety and the thrill that was sure to follow. It was to be savoured.

"Wonder if they doubt me too?" she murmered to herself. There was a twinge in her back, just inside the ribs, as though her body was giving her the answer. It would soon grow into a spine-breaking spasim, but at this point, it was meerly a compaion, an observer to that self-doubt that was gripping tight her mind.

A razor cut grin came across her lips. The thought of events to come danced in her head, so deep she can smell the melting of metal of laser fire and the roar of autocannon, the rattling of missiles firing and the crashing of metal monstrosities trudging through the battlefield as the land gave way to war.

Juri wondered if the Clans felt this way before a fight, if they emersed themselves in mistakes and trials to better themselves. What sort of training would it take to forge a person into something that depraved?

Unfolding the Kimono, she ran her arms through the sleeves. No sense getting excited yet, just prepare.

The door opened, and she stepped into the door, the hall lights so much brighter than the quarters she was assigned. Taking a moment to readjust her vision, her shadow cast deep into the room. The door slammed shut, trapping the shadow in the room along with all her doubts. Or at least that's what Juri would tell herself.

[Listless Nomad]

Corridor C, outside the Observation Deck
Union Class Dropship, Achilles Pride
Deep Space,
3rd March, 3063, 16:42 Hours

Andrew ran his hands through his hair for what felt like the thousandth time that day. He could feel it getting longer and it bothered him.

“I need to find a barber” he muttered to himself.

For the past few days, he’d been spending a lot of his time up on the observation deck. It helped him clear his mind, and allowed him to relax after long hours trying to get his mech up to snuff. The installation of the C3 system provided by the terrors was taking long than anticipated, and was causing him a lot of grief. The techs on hand were nice enough however, and one of them was even kind of cute. Smiling at the thought of a romantic interlude in the midst of this grand suicide mission, Andrew continued his way down the corridor and to the entrance to the observation deck.

Pausing for a moment to allow the doors to open fully, Wheeler’s eyes grew wide as the light from the corridor spilled into the observation deck. Prostrate in the shaft of light not obscured by his frame, the body of the mechwarrior known as Jon lay motionless before him. A small pool of vomit spread from his lips onto the floor, and his eyes had rolled back into his head. From his time in combat, Wheeler knew the man was dead at a glance. Still he quickly knelt beside him and checked for breathing and a pulse. Finding none, he stood quickly and raced to the nearest intraship phone.

“Medical Center”
“This is Wheeler up on the Observation Deck. I’ve found a body.”

[Thom Frankfurt]

[Better late than never.]

Cargo/mech bay 3
Union Class Dropship, Achilles Pride
Deep Space,
3rd March, 3063, 16:58

Thom dragged his finger across the top of the stack of armored plates cutting a path through the thick layer of dust atop of the ferrous-titanium plate. Chuckling to himself he then doodled a happy face before turning back to his work of doing a physical inventory of the supplies that the Terror's picked up on Outreach. He than began to grumble as he began his count along the numerous storage racking that dominated the interior of bay three.

Twenty tons armor, ferro fiberous plate, check... He then moved down two meters and began counting the standard plate, he was at eighteen tons when the sultry voice of Dr. Cynthia Mead sounded on the 'Pride's PA system summoning him up to the medical center.

"Thom, please report to the medical center, urgently." the doctor cooed, and Thom dropped his clipboard right there and headed off towards sickbay running with the clanging of his grav boots heralding his approach to anyone occupying the main corridor towards sickbay. A few scant minutes later with a clank, clank, clank, clink, clink, screech Thom skidded to a halt and slammed the activate panel which caused the doors to whoosh upward admist the hiss of pneumatic compression. Darting in he was welcomed by the milfish Cynthia Mead leaning back against the wall with a sad smile.

"Wat is it? Which one is it, Adrianna or Juri?" Thom blurted out wondering which one slain the other.

"Neither." She pushed herself off the wall, "It's Jon, he'd dead."

"Until I've had the chance to preform a proper autopsy I won't know. Until we know for sure, we should seal his room off in case it was some disease or bug he may have picked up on Outreach. And we should pull in somewhere to sterilize his room. Just in case, you never can tell." She cracked a goofy crooked smile at him. "I'm sorry Thom, but you know it needs to be done."

"Yeah's. I'lls go an hail da Irregular's. Der going to love dis one." The Warlockian turned to leave, it looked like he was going to have to send off letter's to next of kin. He hated doing that.

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 14 April 2013 - 01:13 PM.